


Taste Test

by Inky_Blackheart



Series: Crimson [2]
Category: Dracula (1931)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blood As Lube, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Drabble, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Vampire Sex, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:54:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21687910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inky_Blackheart/pseuds/Inky_Blackheart
Summary: "In retrospect, he should have really realized it sooner, Renfield thinks, pinned to an ancient, rotting mattress with his master’s teeth buried in his neck."Renfield knows that, sooner or later, his lover will kill him. Until then, he will enjoy his master's affection, bloody as it is.
Relationships: Count Dracula/R.M. Renfield
Series: Crimson [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1562140
Comments: 12
Kudos: 53





	Taste Test

Taste Test

In retrospect, he should have really realized it sooner, Renfield thinks, pinned to an ancient, rotting mattress with his master’s teeth buried in his neck. He writhes, trying to grab a handful of thigh, cape, anything, but Dracula swats his hands away. The vampire’s hands have long since left his back and hips, trying to control Renfield’s unconscious twitching as the blood ebbed from his body. Renfield hears the soft rustling of fabric and a quiet ‘thump’ as Master’s attire falls to the floor. He hopes that Dracula will allow him to gaze upon his face as he thrusts inside his thrall. Perhaps if he offers an incentive...

“Ah, ah,” Renfield moans as the teeth sink deeper. They’re pressing against his nerves and it should really hurt more, but all he can feel is burning pleasure. It is only fair that Dracula sees how it affects him. “Take more, Master. Ah, take it, take what you want from me. I’ll give you everything,” he moans, arching his neck, driving the fangs deeper.

Dracula pulls out, teeth dripping warm blood onto Renfield’s back. “Oh child,” he coos, “You’ve no idea how dangerous those words are.”

Perhaps it was a by-product of the thrall, but Renfield wasn’t a stupid man, nor was he blind. He’d known Master Dracula was beautiful the instant he saw him. Too beautiful to be human, in retrospect. He’d endeavoured not to let that distract him from his work, but dinner had thrown it straight out the window. The way the count’s eyes had focused on the blood dripping from his finger during dinner had been confusing, but the look on his face when Renfield sucked the blood off was not. He’d heard of people who liked that sort of thing back in London, upstanding types you couldn’t reach satisfaction without seeing their partner bleed. He’d sucked his finger a little longer than necessary, let his eyes flutter closed as he did. What he wanted was illegal in civilized Europe, but he wasn’t in civilized Europe, was he. What was a little danger, here and there?

He snapped out of his reminiscing when Dracula ran his long nails down his back. “I want to enter you now, pet. Turn, face me.”

Renfield eagerly flipped over, raising his legs as soon as he was positioned as Master wanted him. He rested his legs on his master’s shoulders, watching as the vampire slicked his sex with the blood still flowing from his neck.

“So beautiful,” Dracula whispered, leaning forward, entering Renfield and biting his shoulder at the same time. “My precious. My darling.” His tone was slightly mocking, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered to Renfield was the cold cock inside him, relentlessly slamming in and out.

“Yes,” he gasped, writhing, pushing his hips back to get more friction, “yes. Oh Master, oh god.”

“How appropriate,” the vampire laughed. He pulled off from the neck completely, changing his angle to hit his lover’s prostate, hands gripping Renfield’s hips hard enough to bruise. “Pray to me, Renfield. Sing me your hymns.”

Renfield screamed, his back taut as an arrow, meeting his master thrust for thrust.

“So obedient” Dracula panted, his careful composure starting to weaken. “So delicious.”

“Take your fill, master,” Renfield cried, burying his hands in his Master’s slick hair. “Take it all.”

In retrospect he’d regret this, for when Dracula took his fill, it left his prey empty. This he knew. But for now, all he needed was this, the warmth of his blood leaking out and the cold of his master inside. It was the only sustenance that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoy this little drabble.
> 
> My Tumblr: https://inkyblacc.tumblr.com/


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